Secret of the Sphere
by daphrose
Summary: The old man stoked the fire and asked, "If you hate your grandfather so much, why are you trying to find him?" She sighed, her hand going instinctively to her knapsack. She could feel the metal ball through the fabric. "Because my dad wanted me to," she said. "And who am I to refuse him his dying wish?"
1. Chapter 1: Life and Death

**Hey, look at me starting another story! XD Whoops. I'll update other ones soon, don't worry. But this idea popped into my head, and I'm really excited about it. Before we begin, though, I'd like to apologize for being MIA lately. This week has been kinda crazy, and I learned some stuff that will change some other stuff and probably change my life forever. It's not big—and it's certainly not bad—but it's still something I have to get used to. Don't worry, I'm not leaving! I promise! I'm just trying to work through real life stuff right now. And if you care about my life, you'll find out what's going on a bit later. I'll probably post about it on my blog. :)**

 **Anyway! Here's another future-fic from me. It's not at all related to WDF, though. This story centers on the child of another main character, and one that doesn't get as much love as he should. Just to warn you, since it's a future-fic, there are quite a few OCs. I hope you don't mind. If you do, go ahead and leave. I won't be offended. (I do hope you'll give it a chance, however.)**

 **This chapter is going to be a bit crazy. I'm jumping right in. Warnings for the death of a main character. If you've ever lost someone you love, tread with care. Later on there will be quite a few intense moments. It's rated T for a reason.**

 **Chapter 1 soundtrack: "I Miss You" by Danny Rayel. Link is on my profile.**

 **I don't own Lab Rats, just Kira and anything/anyone else you don't recognize. Enjoy!**

* * *

 *** * * Chapter 1: Life and Death * * ***

* * *

It was April 24th, 2035. It was the worst day of Kira's life. In some twisted way, it was also the best. In short, it was the day everything began.

Kira marched down the hall with her head held high, trying to keep her lip from quivering. The boots of the guard beside her clicked as they walked across the metal floor. She didn't even pay him any mind. He had escorted her down this hall a thousand times . . . only this time was different. Kira could feel deep in her heart that today would be very different.

The guard stopped in front of the desired room and opened the door. A doctor and a nurse looked up. A man lying on the hospital bed turned his head every so slightly to glance at the newcomers. The guard tilted his head and the doctor and nurse walked briskly out.

"Fifteen minutes," the guard said, and Kira was in the room with the door shut behind her.

The man on the bed smiled. "Kira."

Her eyes welled up with tears; there was no controlling the emotion anymore. "Daddy," she mumbled. "Daddy!" She ran to his bedside, burying her face in his chest. He reached up to stroke her hair. Usually she loved that, but today the pulse oximeter on his finger ran its plastic self through her thick locks. Kira stood up and swallowed.

"Calm down, honey," her dad said. "There. That's a good girl."

Kira took a deep breath and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. _Control yourself, Kira! You're not a five year old; you're fourteen, for goodness' sake! Act your age._

"H-Hi, Dad."

Her father smiled. "I know you're scared."

"How'd you—"

"A dad always knows."

 _Of course._ "You're going to be okay," Kira whispered. She took a step closer to the bed. Her eyes wandered to the machines behind it. The flashing lights and soft beeps might have soothed her had the situation been different, but now it only meant the reality she didn't want to face: her father did not have a long time left in this world.

"Kira," he said, "Kira, look at me."

She obeyed. Their eyes—the chocolate-brown eyes they shared—locked, and her father smiled at her.

"I've lived a full life," he whispered, his voice getting weaker by the second. "I don't regret anything. You shouldn't either. I've loved watching you grow up . . . and I'm sad I won't . . ." He coughed. "Someday you'll walk down the aisle, and I can't . . ." He paused, emotion choking out his voice.

"Dad, please," Kira whispered, grabbing his hand. She didn't even care about the oximeter this time. "Don't talk like that."

"I only wish I could've given you a free life," he continued. "Not in this prison."

"Someday I'll get out."

"You'll do it without me."

"No, Dad, please." She stopped and bowed her head. A realization had hit her, but she was terrified to share it. Looking into his eyes, however, she knew she had to. "You'll be free long before I am. Dad, if anything, I'm jealous of you." She knelt down and put her forehead on the edge of the bed. "Take me with you." A tear rolled down her cheek and her shoulders shook.

"Kira, where I'm going, you cannot come. At least, not yet. You have so many adventures ahead of you. I know that whatever you do, you'd make me proud."

"I'll try. Dad, I swear I'll try to make you proud."

Kira looked up into her dad's face. He smiled at her. He was such a great man; why did this happen to him? Why was he here, like this? It wasn't fair. He was only thirty-seven, and even if that was old to Kira, it wasn't so old that he should die. He had nearly half his life ahead of him. Why, oh why? It wasn't fair.

No one would tell her what was wrong with her dad. Some kind of terminal illness that slowly ate away at his life, they said. There had to be more to it than that, though. Kira knew deep down that this "illness" was not natural. It was because of their captors, their conditions. She knew because her mother had died of a similar "illness" only five years earlier. Half of the residents of this prison were sick or dead already from the same thing. Everyone on the island knew it was no accident. Her mother had been murdered, others had been murdered, and now her father had been murdered too.

 _It's so not fair . . ._

"Kira."

She looked up at his voice. His face held a new urgency on it. Her heart sped up in a dreadful mix of anticipation and fear.

"I need you to do something," he continued. His eyes wandered to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed. "In there. It will . . . it will get you started."

Kira stood up and moved to the other side of the bed, close to the wall. Out the window she could see the waves lapping against the shore. She pulled her eyes away and opened the drawer. Inside was a metal ball with a red button on the top.

"Is it some kind of bomb?" Kira asked. She took a step back. Had her father gone crazy?

He laughed softly, coughing immediately after. "No, not a bomb. A treasure. Pick it up, but do not press the button."

Kira obeyed, lifting the object and observing it. A small slit ran across the circumference, indicating that this sphere could be opened—most likely by pressing the button. "What's inside?"

"A treasure," he repeated.

"Can I open it?"

"No. There's only one person I want to open it . . . one person who will know its true meaning. There is only one person in the world who can appreciate it for what it is."

"Who?"

"Your grandfather."

Kira's eyebrows knitted together. "But Grandpa is dead."

"Not the one who gave you those," he said, gesturing to her neck. "The other one."

"Mom's dad? But he's dead too. Plus he was crazy."

Her father sighed. "No, no. Not him. Not the grandpa you grew up with, either. Your _real_ grandpa."

As it finally sank in, Kira shook her head. "Donald Davenport? That grandpa? Isn't he dead too?"

"I know he's not."

"Even if he were somehow alive, he's dead to me," Kira growled, slamming the sphere back onto the nightstand. "He abandoned his family. Who does that?"

"In all the time he's been gone," her dad said, hurt and anxiety creeping into his already weary tone, "I've held onto the belief that he had his reasons. I knew him. He wouldn't leave us without a good reason."

Kira wanted to argue with her dad, but she felt it wouldn't be best considering his current condition. If he wanted to believe those delusions in his final moments, she would let him.

"I want you to find him."

"What?" Kira yelped, surprising even herself. Even so, she kept going. "I don't want to meet him even if he's still alive."

"Trust me, you'd love him. Maybe even more than he loves himself."

"No, I'm very sure I wouldn't."

"Kira." Her dad's eyes bore into her with such sorrow that she looked away. "Consider it my dying wish. Find your Grandpa Donald, and give him the sphere. He can open it and show you why I always keep it locked. I'm trusting you with this. Please. My only daughter . . . my baby girl . . . find Grandpa . . . tell him I'm sorry."

" _You're_ sorry? He's the one who left you behind!"

"I'm not going to believe that."

"Dad, even if I wanted to find him, how would I get out of here? You know I could never leave. And how would I even go about finding him? He could be anywhere in the world!"

"You're a resourceful girl. I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Dad, you can't really be asking me to do this. You can't seriously be asking me to track down a man I absolutely loathe."

Her father smiled faintly. "And yet, that's exactly what I'm asking you to do."

"Why?"

"Because he needs to know that I still love him. He needs to know that he's still wanted in this world. I can't even imagine what he's been through. He needs to know that he still has a son who cares for him. And you need to learn that he's not as bad as you think he is. You need to learn that he's human and he's not perfect—no matter how much he tries to deny it—but he's still a wonderful man. You remind me so much of him. You both need to know that you're loved; you need to learn to love each other."

"That could not happen."

"You're really going to argue with me now?" His chest rose and fell. He blinked and sighed, looking at his daughter with a deep longing

"No," she murmured, picking up the ball again. It fit in the palm of her hand, and she wondered exactly what valuable thing could be inside. "You really want me to do this?"

"With all my heart. Please, Kira. You have to understand how important this is to me."

She looked down into her father's dark eyes. They were filled with such wanting. He would never be able to complete this quest himself; he wanted Kira to do it for him.

"You find your Grandpa Donald," he whispered. "And you tell him . . . you tell him that his son still loves him. You tell him that Leo will always love him."

"Dad." A sob escaped her throat, and in one swift motion Kira put the sphere back on the table and leaned over her father's bed, breathing heavily.

He reached up to stroke her hair. His hand moved down her face and she leaned her cheek into his palm. It was a perfect picture of father-daughter love. Kira just wished that her father was not on his deathbed.

"Kira," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Don't cry for me."

Only now did she realize that tears rolled down her cheeks to create dark spots on her father's already dark skin. She blinked and took a deep breath.

"I'll . . . I'll get to see Ariana again. Your mother and I . . . we will always be watching over you."

"I'm jealous of you, Dad. You'll finally be leaving this prison."

Her dad cracked a smile. "Be brave. I know . . . you can be brave."

"I will. And if it means that much to you . . . I'll find Donald."

"Let me hear you call him Grandpa."

"Fine. I'll . . . I'll find _Grandpa_." Those words pained Kira, but was she supposed to refuse her moribund father?

"Good. You . . . won't regret it. Kira . . . Kira, I love you."

His wrist went slack and fell away from her face. Kira grabbed it, and the dark skin of his hand melded with the lighter brown of hers. She gripped it like her life depended on it.

"Dad . . . Dad!"

Leo Dooley's eyes closed and his head fell back on the pillow. Kira stood there with her mouth open in shock. She dropped his wrist and screamed, "Someone, someone help my dad!"

The machines began to buzz horrifically as the doctor and nurse rushed back in the room, along with more guards. In the chaos, Kira grabbed the sphere and slipped it under her shirt. She watched helplessly as the people surrounded her father's bedside. Some were cruel enough to whisper the truth out loud to each other. Kira's face was blank; she couldn't—nor did she want to—register what exactly happened.

A hand on her neck guided her out the door without her consent. With bleary eyes she looked up to see the guard who had brought her in once again leading her down the hall. She didn't struggle for once.

They came to a door and the guard shoved her inside. The room was no bigger than a closet, and dread filled Kira instantly.

"Solitary confinement? You're putting me in solitary confinement right after my father died? What kind of monster are you?"

The guard didn't answer; he only slammed the door shut in her face. Kira began to pound on the metal, screaming for help—all the while knowing that no help would come. Finally she collapsed onto the ground. She felt the most utter grief, but some reason she was unable to cry. She sat there with her back against the wall, unable to do anything.

Solitary confinement lasted a week unless the guards said otherwise. Why was she even in here? What had she done wrong? Showing emotion because your father died is wrong? Kira's blood boiled at the thought.

After several minutes, Kira reached under her shirt and pulled out the sphere. She studied it closely and was half tempted to open it right then and there to see what was inside. She was stopped only by the thought that it wasn't what her father had wanted. He wanted her to find Donald Davenport and have him open it. The treasure was for him.

"Dad," Kira whispered, "I've hated my grandfather all my life, and I've never even known him. I was hoping I never would. But if this is what you want, I'll do it for you. One way or another, I'll find my . . . _Grandpa_ Donald and give this to him." Then in a voice even quieter—perhaps she was worried the spirt of her father was eavesdropping—she said, "Dang it, Dad, there'd better be something pretty fantastic inside."

* * *

 **So, how was it? I bet you have plenty of questions. If you do, good. In fact, how about you ask them. Go ahead. Leave as many questions as you can think of in a review. Just any questions you have about the story, the setting, and the characters. I won't answer them directly, but it would be nice to know what you guys are curious about. Chances are they'll be answered as the story goes on. (Mostly in the next two chapters, hopefully.)**

 **And hey, if you guys have time, check out my first drabble, "Thirsty," that I posted yesterday. It's based off a true story. XD And thanks to everyone who already reviewed!**

 **I love hearing what you think, so don't forget to review! Give me your questions, your musings, your deepest, darkest fears . . . wait . . . well, I mean, I guess that's okay, but you should probably just ask stuff about the story. (I'm not a therapist. XD) Ask questions, suggest theories, tell me what you think is going on. I love to hear it! And to everyone who's too shy to review, thanks for reading! I hope you all liked it, and I'll see you later for Chapter 2: Family Ties. (That title might change.) Oh, and don't forget to give your mom a big hug tomorrow! :D Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2: Family Ties

**Woo, it's been a little while! Who's ready to see where Kira's journey takes her? Also, who wants to find out who's still alive? Get ready to cry. Lots of crazy stuff, some answers, and even more questions. Let's go.**

 **Chapter 2 soundtrack: "Ascending" by Mattia Cupelli. Another instrumental! Woo!**

 **I don't own Lab Rats or any of the characters. However, the children of those characters do belong to me, because I made them up. Enjoy!**

* * *

 *** * * Chapter 2: Family Ties * * ***

* * *

Kira looked out her window into the water. The ocean ran for miles and miles. Out in the distance, white foam sat on the surface, the remains of waves crashing into each other. The deep blue was a truly lovely color; or, at least it was to anyone who hadn't been forced to watch it all their life.

For Kira, the ocean was a prison. It was the thing that separated her and her family, as well as many other war prisoners, from a normal life on land. It kept them trapped on the island, away from freedom. It was the reason they could never leave. So even though some would call the ocean beautiful and wild and free, Kira called it a jail, keeping her captive in a life she never asked for.

She sighed and turned back to her dismal room. She had left solitary confinement the day before, but she hadn't left her room since. Partially because of the guard at the door, and partially because of her stubborn refusal to leave and do something productive.

Still, it was nearing lunchtime, and Kira was hungry. She knew that she would have to leave soon or suffer through starvation. Not that eating in the cafeteria was much better, but the food in solitary was even worse. She swore she saw her "porridge" move by itself in the bowl on the third day.

Kira sat down on the couch and waited. She didn't dare go out now and ask the guard to take her to the cafeteria. It was still too early. So she simply sat on the worn leather couch, ignoring the way the rough fabric dug into her shins.

The dingy grey paint on the wall had chipped away slowly over the years, and in some places it revealed the original white paint underneath. The window on the wall opposite the couch had vertical bars running up it, and if one looked close they could see the screws at the bottom and top. In the corner was a capsule, the one Kira slept in—when she wasn't in solitary, at least. On the wall beside it was a small control panel for the computerized tube, though the system had long since worn itself out and was now barely responsive. Even her Uncle Chase had a hard time restarting it.

Though she wasn't positive, Kira was pretty sure this room had been used as some kind of recovery room before she had been born. It was just down the hall from the infirmary—which, like this room, was very worn-out—and the white paint resembled the kind of chilling color you'd find inside a hospital. It was also small, perhaps only two or three times as big as the solitary chamber. Maybe a long time ago it was called cozy, but now Kira just called it suffocating.

Three steps took her to the edge of the wall, where she knelt down. Her fingers worked away a loose piece of metal a few inches above the floor. Behind it was a space in the wall, no bigger than a small cupboard. Still, it was the perfect hiding place for all of Kira's most precious belongings. She didn't know if the guards would really take these things away from her, but she didn't want to take that chance.

Two objects lay side-by-side behind the wall. They had been there for years, collecting a fine layer of dust. One object was a golden locket. Kira's mom had given it to her the day she died. Kira still couldn't believe how cheesy her mom had been with that gift, but the picture of the red-haired woman inside had given Kira peace on many stressful days. The other item was a bag full of sand. Kira had collected it on the one day they had ever been allowed to leave—and even at that, it was to go to another island to search for resources for . . . whatever the government made here. While the adults scoured the tiny island for precious metals, Kira and the other children played on the beach. In her only moment of freedom, Kira borrowed a plastic bag from her father, scooped up a handful of sand, and hid it until they got home. These two small things belonged to _her_ , and that was what made them so special.

Now a third item sat beside the necklace and sand. The round metal ball given to her by her dying father leaned casually against the bag of sand, as if it had always been there. The only sign that it hadn't been was the lack of dust. A thin film covered the other objects, but the sphere was as shiny and new as the week before. For a second, Kira wondered how her father had kept it in such a pristine condition. Surely he had hid it for most of his life, and surely it had also been covered in dust from another long sit behind a wall. But no, it reflected the rays of sunlight that fell across the inside of the hole as if it had been created the day before.

Kira lifted the ball and studied it closely. It weighed hardly anything at all, which she found shocking. She shook it and listened. Something brushed against the inside of the sphere, but Kira couldn't tell what that something was. Nothing would've made her happier than pressing the button and opening it. Her curiosity overwhelmed her. Yet, her love for her father did too, and even more so. She couldn't betray him after his death. She couldn't revoke a promise she made to him during his last few moments of life. The sphere would remain unopened until Kira had successfully found Donald Davenport— _if_ she ever found him, of course.

A knock at the door startled Kira out of her thoughts. She replaced the items and fumbled with the metal board, praying the guard wouldn't enter the room. She closed the hole and hopped to her feet, rushing to the door.

"Yes?" she asked when she opened it. She tried to keep her voice sweet and innocent, but she doubted that she pulled it off well.

"It's lunchtime," the guard said. His expression was blank and his lips were as straight as his back.

Kira leaned against the doorpost and narrowed her eyes. "You've never cared about whether I eat or not."

"You've spent a week in solitary and you haven't eaten in a few days. We don't need another death."

Kira nodded and followed him out the door. As they walked down the hall, she managed to mumble under her breath, "You've never cared about your death toll before. I'd be one less brat to take care of."

The cafeteria was on the other side of the island. To get to it, they had to walk through the commons area in the center of the mass of buildings. Walking through it was always dreary, Kira thought. The metal benches were rife with rust, and wind had a way of funneling through the outdoor space with enough force to make one have to continually wipe the hair out of their face. Any vestige of the plants that had once brightened the area was long gone. Kira's aunts and uncles had told her of a time when the area had been a happy place, but it wasn't any longer. To Kira and many others, it was only a place they must travel through to get where they needed to be. It was the only thing that connected the large buildings together—dorms, factories, the cafeteria, and others. To Kira, that was all it would ever be.

They reached the cafeteria doors, and it was there that the guard left her. He simply walked away, not saying another word to her. Kira just shrugged and walked into the large room. The windows on the opposite wall had been boarded up many years ago, but faint rays of sunshine slipped through the cracks. Florescent lightbulbs cast a creepy yellow glow across the room. To Kira's right was the buffet line with the metal containers full of slop. A couple hundred people packed into the tight tables, and some stood against the wall, shoveling food into their mouths. About ten feet away from Kira, a man suddenly collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently into his hand. No one got up to help him, although some shot him sympathetic looks. He laid on the floor until two guards stepped away from their posts near the wall and hauled him out the door.

Kira tore her eyes away, grabbed a tray, and walked up to the buffet line. The unsmiling cook scooped up a spoonful of brown mush and slapped it onto Kira's tray. She was also given a piece of hardtack. It was a meager meal, but she knew from past experience not to ask for more. She simply nodded and headed over to the wall with the windows.

Most of the room was filled with adults, but one table held five other kids—all of whom were about Kira's age, or a few years older. There were three boys and two girls, and to Kira they might as well be her siblings. In truth, they were her cousins, but they were her only friends. They all sat together at the same table every day, unless one was in solitary, of course.

The table grew strangely silent as Kira walked up. Everyone stopped eating and looked up at her. The first one to break the silence was Elijah. "So, I . . . I heard about Uncle Leo."

Kira nodded. "Yup. I'm an orphan now."

Benny, who was the oldest of the group and the youngest at heart, threw his arms out wide. "Welcome to the club!" he said, flashing a gap-toothed grin.

"Is it something to be proud of?" Kira asked as she sat down next to the window with her cousin Carter on her left.

"We've all lost someone," Carter pointed out. She gnawed on her hardtack and added, "It's not like it's unusual."

"It's still hard," Mandy said. She reached across the table and put a hand on Kira's arm. Mandy was only two years older than Kira, but she was the mother of the group, it seemed. "It's okay to cry, sweetie."

"I'm not crying," Kira assured her.

"Yeah, Mandy," Elijah said to his sister. "Kira's a tough girl."

"Losing your dad isn't fun, though," West said, adding his thoughts to the conversation. "Carter and I know what you're going through."

"Hey, so do I!" Benny protested. "My dad was the only one who really understood me."

"Your dad was a nutcase," Carter said.

"Hey! He was not! He was _different_ , is all."

"No, he was a nutcase, just like you."

Benny scowled. "That's no way to talk about the dead."

"He's right, sis, so be quiet," West snapped. "Uncle Adam might have been a little goofy, but he was a great guy. We all miss him."

Kira poked her food with a fork and whispered, "I wonder if people on the mainland have conversations like this."

"Doubtful," Elijah said. "Our life here is very different."

"Well, let's review, shall we?" Benny said. "I've lost my mom and dad—Adam and Natasha Davenport; may they rest in peace—West and Carter lost their father, Hudson Emery, Elijah and Mandy lost Kate Davenport, their mom, and now both of Kira's parents, Leo and Ariana Dooley, are gone too. Between the six of us, we have two living parents. I'm pretty sure that most mainlanders can't say they've lost literally half their family. Wait." Benny began trying to count on his fingers, but Elijah put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't hurt yourself, buddy," he said, shaking his head.

"So," Carter said, turning to face Kira. She still gnawed on her hardtack, and to be honest, it didn't look like she had gotten very far. "I heard you got to be in the room with him. Alone. Did you get to say goodbye?"

"Yeah," Kira replied. "Yeah, I did. It was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. But it beats hearing an unemotional guard break the news. That's how I found out about Mom." Kira rose her eyebrows and took a bite of her glop, trying to ignore the flavor—or lack thereof.

"That's how most of us found out," Elijah said. "You're lucky."

As they continued to eat, a man with light brown hair and a sickly-pale complexion walked up to their table. Kira immediately recognized him as her uncle Chase.

"Hi, Dad," Elijah and Mandy said in unison.

"Hey," he replied. He looked directly at Kira. "I heard about Leo. I'm so sorry."  
"Me too," Kira whispered.

"We're all going to miss him," Chase continued. "Leo was a great guy." He looked like he was about to say more, but he was cut off by a furious coughing fit. The children watched as he turned away, shaking violently. When he finally took his hands away from his mouth, there were red drops on his fingers. "Not again," he muttered.

Mandy stood up and took her dad by the arm, leading him away. He tried to protest, but his daughter kept a firm grip on him. Finally Chase had to surrender; he was too weak to struggle.

"Your dad's a mess," West said, shaking his head.

"Oh, and your mom's so much better," Elijah snapped.

"At least our mom doesn't fall over every time she stands up!" Carter almost shouted.

"Maybe not, but she's still a lunatic!"

"Oh, oh, you wanna go there? Do you really wanna go there?"

Verbal fighting ensued, and Kira responded by attempting to eat her hardtack. It was aptly named, seeing as how she had to saw pieces off with her teeth. Kira caught Benny's gaze from across the table. They sighed simultaneously as if to say, "These three, am I right?"

After a few seconds, Benny couldn't take it anymore. He stood up and yelled, forcing his cousins back into their seats with his telekinesis.

"Cool it with the superpower display," Carter growled. She was sore because she was the only one of the six who didn't possess bionics. Kira didn't see what the big deal was; she didn't even know how to handle her bionics properly. Sometimes they seemed like a waste.

"Would you guys shut up for once?" Benny growled. "I'm pretty sure families don't fight like this back on the mainland."

"Actually, they do," Elijah said. "Studies have shown that lots of siblings have arguments, and scientists have proposed theories as to why they tend to—"

"Well, they shouldn't fight, okay?" Benny yelled. He glanced around and sat down in his chair. Kira knew what the problem was: they had attracted the attention of the guards stationed around the cafeteria. That was never a good thing. "You shouldn't fight," Benny said again.

Carter and West went back to eating. Elijah, who had already finished, fingered the edge of his tray. Kira continued attempting to eat the hardtack, seeing as how the entertainment was now over.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunchtime, Elijah and Benny had to hurry out as fast as the adults. Since they were both eighteen, they were required to work alongside the grown-ups. West would have to work the next year, something he wasn't excited about. For now, though, he was free to leave and go off to a quiet place—something he did quite often. No one ever asked what he did or where he went; he wouldn't answer, anyway.

Carter and Kira walked out of the cafeteria together. They were free to do almost anything for the rest of the afternoon, unless they were pulled away by a guard to do menial work. The two went down an empty hallway and soon found themselves in a large, open space. On their right was an old trackway that led out into the ocean. It was sealed off not more than twenty feet away from the entrance, and the train-like vehicle that had once ran across it had long since been removed and stripped for parts. The cousins turned left and stepped onto a raised platform, walking over to the window and sitting beside it. The window was grimy and hard to see through, but Kira could still make out the ocean on the other side.

"You know another reason I hate Donald Davenport?" she asked.

"What?" Carter said. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, her curly brown hair brushing against her wrists.

"He built this place." Kira ran her hand over the metal floor and scowled.

"True. We could make a whole list of things we hate about that guy."

"My . . . my dad was talking about him . . . while I was in there."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. He seemed to think that _Grandpa_ Donald isn't all that bad." Kira chuckled, but there was no joy in it. "Please. Like that guy could have an ounce of good in him."

"Technically we never knew the guy."

"Exactly. We never got the chance because he's a coward."

Kira looked up at her cousin. Carter was only a year older than her and her closest friend. The two were like sisters, and they spent every spare moment together. There were no secrets between them, and yet, somehow, Kira didn't think she could tell Carter about the sphere.

"Dad made me want to know more," Kira continued, "as crazy as that sounds. Know more about Donald, I mean." _Know where to find him, precisely_. "He made me curious."

"My mom could probably tell you about him," Carter replied. "She's told me stuff before. She's chalk-full of stories like that."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah . . . don't give me that look, K." Carter frowned. "She's not so bad."

"But talking to her is hard, right?"

"I mean, it can be difficult. The key is to just let her go, prod her gently along the path you want, and eventually she'll say something useful. And don't make her mad, of course. Kira, Mom's not so bad, really."

Kira thought for a moment. Going to her aunt Bree seemed like a bit much. Of course Kira loved her, but at the same time, her aunt sometimes scared her. And yet, if she could tell Kira about her grandfather, maybe it was worth the risk.

"Mom's off work today," Carter said. "She threw rocks at someone yesterday and now she's on probation or something. You can find her in her room, and I'm sure the guards will let you in. They always let me in. Just talk to her, K! She's really not that bad."

"Fine," Kira consented. "I'll talk to Aunt Bree."

 _I just hope she can give me some answers. I don't want to know about my real grandfather, but now it seems that I'll have to. Thanks a lot, Dad._

* * *

 **So . . . how long did it take you to figure out that this takes place on the Bionic Island? Or did you just figure it out when I said it now? Also, did anyone notice the name of Chase's wife? Haha, yeah, I totally ship those two now. :3 Originally I had an OC named Camilla, but after Spike vs. Spikette (one of the most amazing episodes yet!), I totally had to change it.**

 **Adam is dead, Bree is crazy, and Chase is sick. Isn't that fun? :D**

 **Anyway, reviews are always welcome. Question me, if you'd like. I know you still want answers. They will come eventually. Thanks for reading! Hopefully the wait for the next chapter (Chapter 3: That One Crazy Aunt) won't be quite as long. See you all soon!**


	3. Chapter 3: That One Crazy Aunt

**Chapter 3 soundtrack: "Generations" by Immediate Music.**

 **Long time no update. I know that, you know that, so I won't give you a list of excuses, just a story. I don't own Lab Rats, only all these OCs and the plot. Enjoy!**

* * *

 *** * * Chapter 3: That One Crazy Aunt * * ***

* * *

Kira walked up to the guard, banishing all glimpses of fear from her face. "I'd like to see my aunt, please," she said, looking him in the eye.

"Sorry, girl, but Bree Davenport is on probation right now."

"Right. So she's in there. Come on, just let me inside. Please?"

The guard furrowed his brow. "Why?"

Kira sighed. "Because . . . because my dad just died, and I want to talk to her about it. I don't have a mom, you know, and I need someone to go to. Unless _you_ want to listen to me."

The guard sighed. "Fine, I guess you can go in. But not for long! And be careful; she's a feisty one."

"So I've heard," Kira muttered as the guard unlocked the door.

The large white door pulled back and Kira stepped into the hallway. What had once been a beautiful example of modern architecture was now covered in moss and grime. Kira took a deep breath and kept walking. The guard shut the door behind her. She would have to stay.

A few more steps brought her to her aunt's room. It was by far one of the largest bedrooms on the island. It had a fantastic view of the ocean, though it was obscured by the dirt on the windows. Directly opposite Kira, metal bars stretched from the floor to the ceiling, cutting off access to a small pool on the other side—and probably a way out to the rest of the island. One of the purposes of a bedroom was to keep the prisoner inside . . . which Kira supposed made it more like a jail cell than a bedroom.

In the center of a room was a white couch, and on that couch was a middle-aged woman in white clothes. Her eyes were glued to a tablet screen and she didn't bother to look up as Kira entered. So the girl stood there, unsure of what to do. She wasn't sure how to approach her aunt.

"Carter, I'm reading a good story right now," Bree said without looking up. "Do you think you can come back later?"

Kira closed her eyes. "Aunt Bree, it's not Carter. It's Kira. And I really don't think this can wait."

Bree looked up and cocked her head. She put the tablet down on the coffee table in front of her and grinned. "Kira!" she exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in so long. How have you been? Sit, sit."

Kira obeyed and sat on a nearby chair. She started to say something, but her aunt cut her off.

"I heard about Leo. I'm so sorry, honey."

"Everyone is."

"Let me tell you right now, he was a fantastic brother. I wasn't so sure I would like him at first, but he really grew on me. He was probably the least annoying brother I had. And I will miss him forever, but I'm happy that he'll be with Ariana now."

"That's what he said before he died."

Bree put on a sad smile. "That's what you wanted to talk to me about, right? I mean, not about Ariana, but about your dad."

"Sort of. Actually, mostly I wanted to talk to you about _your_ dad."

Bree's eyebrows rose. "Oh? Which one?"

"The one I've never met."

She nodded. "I see. Did Leo tell you something about him?"

Kira sighed. "Kinda. He . . . he wants me to find him. I don't even think that's possible, but I figured I might as well ask you."

Bree leaned back in her chair and stared at the wall. She was silent for several seconds.

"Aunt Bree?"

"Did I ever tell you the story behind this room?"

"Uh, no, but I don't think—"

"It was the room the mentors slept in. Our capsules used to be back there." She gestured to the raised spot in front of the windows, where only one capsule remained. "Leo slept on this couch." She smiled sadly as she fingered the worn leather. "We made a lot of memories in here. It used to be such a happy room. Now . . . now it's not, I guess. Not since the invasion. I'm just happy they let me stay here. Still, it hasn't been the same since they kicked my brothers out."

Kira nodded. "And . . . what about Grandpa Donald?"

Bree put her chin in her hands. "He's been gone for a long time. The first place _I_ would look would be Mission Creek, since that's where he lived for so long. But the last place anyone ever saw him was Idaho. Way up at the top, near Canada, almost. As far as I know, the government never caught him. I think a lot of people think he's dead. But I know he's not. Not yet."

Kira rubbed her arms and said, "And do you know why he left?"

Bree was silent for a few moments. "No. I've always wondered, though. It had to be for a reason. I know my dad, and I knew that he would be back someday. That's how I know he's still alive."

"But I doubt I could find him."

"Probably not. He'd be in hiding. Also, you'd have to get off this island."

"That'd be the hard part. It's probably impossible."

Bree shook her head and sat up straight. "You know, I've been on probation many times. They have to take you to the main command room in the middle of the island. There's a lot of neat stuff in there. All sorts of computers and other electronics." She waved her hands around, as if everything she talked about was right in front of her.

"Uh huh," Kira said slowly, not seeing her aunt's point.

"And there's a door," Bree continued. She stayed quiet for a few seconds.

"A door?" Kira repeated, trying to figure out what Bree's point was.

Bree nodded. "And I know what's behind that door. It's the teleporter to the mainland. I've seen it once. Very fancy and stuff. It's locked; you need a key. But there's not as many guards around it as you would think. In fact, I'm pretty sure . . ." She trailed off.

Kira's eyes widened. Were her aunt's ramblings more than just ramblings? Was Bree actually trying to tell her something?

Bree shivered. "Those vents blow in too much air. Sometimes I think that if I could crawl through them, I could find a way to stop it. But the only vents big enough to fit a person are the vents in the command center."

Kira looked up. "Thank you for talking to me, Aunt Bree. I-I don't know if I'll ever find my grandfather, but if I do . . . is there anything you want me to tell him?"

Bree furrowed her brow. "Tell him . . . tell him his daughter misses him. Tell him that she doesn't blame him for anything. And tell him . . . tell him how much she's lost. Tell him that for once she wants to find something." She lowered her head. "Tell him that she's found a way to survive."

"Aunt Bree?"

She looked up, a gleam in her eye. "Then again, what do I know? I'm crazy, after all." Bree winked.

Kira grinned. "Aunt Bree, I personally think you're brilliant. Thank you for telling me all this. Part of me still doesn't want to find Grandpa Donald . . . I don't really love him . . ."

"I know, honey. But don't give up. Mr. Davenport was a good man, and I don't think anything has changed. Really, truly, I don't. I still believe that he had a reason. I still love him, and I think you should, too."

Kira nodded and stood up. "I'll think about it."

"Good. Now, leave me alone! I was just about to get to the good part." Bree picked up the tablet, and before Kira could even say goodbye, she was once again immersed in her story.

* * *

"Your mom's not as insane as I thought," Kira whispered as she and Carter crouched behind a support beam, out of view of the cameras.

"See, I told you!" her cousin said.

"She told me how to get out of here. And she gave me a bit of information about our grandfather. That's not as important, though. I'm just excited that I know how to get out! Are you with me?"

"Are you kidding?" Carter squealed, keeping her voice low so no one heard her. "I have been waiting for this day my whole life. Let's do it!"

* * *

 **So, is Bree mad, or is she wiser than them all? What did she tell Kira? Will they be able to get out?**

 **I don't know when the next update will be. I'll try to make it soon, but to be honest, I can't promise anything. I'm sorry for taking so long on some of my stories, but I do have news: This year and from now on, I won't post new stories until I've finished them entirely. That way you won't have to wait around for so long. I'll also work harder on updating the stories I haven't finished yet. Keep reviewing and reminding me, because I'm quite forgetful.**

 **Thanks to all for reading, and I'll see you next time for Chapter 4: Escapee. Bye!**


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